City of Blood and Falling Leaves
by RoaringMice
Summary: John's head spun, heart beating madly in his chest. He heard movement around him; perhaps Carson, maybe Elizabeth moving away. It didn't matter. Rodney was gone, and he was here, and none of this made any damn sense.
1. Chapter 1

John tracked the scene from the small porch, eyes on the people rushing past as the crowd moved toward the far end of the street, away from the site of the attack. If Teyla and Rodney were nearby, he'd see them. They'd been separated in the initial panic when the bomb had gone off, and he had watched helplessly as they'd been pushed along with the wave while he'd managed to get himself a few steps above the throng.

Breath sharp, shoulders tense, John pressed his back into the door behind him and, on tiptoe, sought his teammates in the dimness of the lights strung across the street. They'd had such high hopes for this mission; a planet that hadn't seen the Wraith in long enough to have relatively sizeable, established settlements and with them, hope for decent trade. Figured – even though Teyla's people had heard this was a peaceful place, it seemed like things had changed. He wished Ronon was on this mission, but he was back on base, down with some sort of virus. He could use the help.

He saw a dark head moving through the crowd, headed for him – Teyla.

John dashed down the steps and met Teyla at their base. "They took Rodney!" Teyla said sharply, agitation clear in her expression. She looked all right, if a bit disheveled.

Not wasting time, John asked the most important question: "Where?" staring into her eyes, heartbeat mirroring her frantic look. It didn't matter "Who" at the moment; it was far more important to get the man back. The rest, he could figure out later.

"There!" Teyla nearly shouted, pointing to a building across the street, its door open to the dark interior.

"Stay with me," John said in a rush, voice loud enough to be heard over the crowd. He pushed his way past people running down the street, trusting Teyla to stay with him. Eyes on the scene, he was watchful as he approached the door at a run.

He motioned Teyla back as he used his weapon to push the door further open. When no response came from inside, he peered in. He slid through the door, waving Teyla to follow.

As he entered the dark room, he caught a glimpse of someone – a local, male, dark skinned like most he'd seen so far on this planet, dark hair, flash of blue cloth as the man moved through an opening in the far wall. The room in front of John stood empty. It seemed to be some sort of interior courtyard, its ceiling open to the elements in places, letting in what light there was from the outdoors. John ran across the floor, footfalls echoing in the space, breath coming harsh now.

John darted up to the far doorway, then slowed and moved alongside it. He stilled. He could hear movement inside the next room, and voices. Peering around the doorframe, he could just see a small group of people with their backs to him, a good 10 metres away. He edged himself inside, careful not to make a sound, weapon up. He paused, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. The people didn't look at him. Instead, they were looking down at something on the floor in front of them, something John couldn't quite make out in the low light. John counted at least five people, all locals, a mix of male and female.

John slid further into the room, weapon trained on the people in front of him. He could hear Rodney's voice. Rodney was on the floor, the others gathered around him. Before he could catch what Rodney was saying, he heard something ping beside him. Damn it, his jacket had caught on a nail in the doorframe. That small noise was enough to call attention to him. One of the women in the group turned. Dark eyes met his.

John raised his weapon higher, pointing it at her. "Don't move," he said loudly, hoping Teyla could hear and know to stay outside the room. He stepped closer to the local woman, wanting to see what was going on with Rodney. "What do you want with that man?" he asked, trying to keep her focus on him, giving time for Teyla to step back, get away, contact Atlantis.

The woman raised her hand. From this distance and in the dark, it appeared to be empty, but nevertheless, he heard Rodney behind her say, "Don't." And with that warning, John readied himself to fire his weapon.

He wasn't fast enough. A flash of light, and he felt himself fall.

x-x

_Please feel free to review! _


	2. Chapter 2

John squinted against the brightness, using a hand to try to brush away the light. There was something on his face, and he tried to rip it off, head spinning as he struggled. He felt someone grasp his arm and push it down. A familiar voice said, "It's all right, it's an oxygen mask." He could hear a soft beeping from nearby - the infirmary. He stopped struggling.

"Good to have you back with us, Colonel." The light moved away, revealing Carson's face hovering above him, the doctor's smile not quite as wide as usual.

John asked, "What happened?" his voice coming out weaker than he'd expected. Everything hurt. He felt like he'd been run over by a tractor.

"There was an attack." That came from nearby.

"Wraith?" John asked, feeling a flutter of panic.

He struggled to focus as Elizabeth's face came into view. "You don't remember?" she asked.

John shook his head, then realized that was a mistake as the room spun around him. His hands grasped the blanket someone had put over him, and he held himself still, waiting for the dizziness to pass.

"You were on a mission with Rodney and Teyla," Elizabeth said.

John tried to push himself up on the bed. "Are they okay?" he asked. He felt hands – probably Carson or one of his medics – push him back down, and he let them, his head swimming. He closed his eyes, trying to find anchor. He didn't remember being on a mission. Wait – yes, he did. With Teyla and Rodney. Place was supposed to be peaceful, so what happened?

"Teyla's fine," Elizabeth said. John heard Elizabeth hesitate; an intake of breath. "Rodney's missing."

John's eyes flashed open. "What?" And now he could see the look on Elizabeth's face, and the concern there. He asked, "How?"

Elizabeth sank into a nearby chair, bringing her eyes on level with John. "What do you recall?"

John shook his head slightly.

"There was a disturbance in a night market you were visiting." Elizabeth looked down, seeming defeated. "It wasn't the Wraith. Someone set off a small bomb. No injuries, and Teyla thinks it was deliberate, a way to separate you. They captured Rodney." Elizabeth broke off. "It was supposed to be a peaceable planet, just a trade mission." She gave a weak smile.

"How long…?" John asked.

"Two days," Elizabeth said.

Two days? John shut his eyes against the world. He'd been unconscious for two days, and Rodney had been missing that entire time, after a mission on a planet he barely remembered!

His head spun, heart beating madly in his chest. He heard movement around him; perhaps Carson, maybe Elizabeth moving away. It didn't matter. Rodney was gone, and he was here, and none of this made any damn sense.

x-x


	3. Chapter 3

_The woman standing above him raised her hand. It appeared to be empty, but he knew better, and he shot out a rushed, "Don't," just as there was a flash of light, and he watched John fall. _

_He lost sight of his friend as he was dragged to his feet. They pushed him forward, and he stumbled into the darkness, his eyes still blinded from the flash. _

John woke with a start, already half off the bed. He'd had a dream, he knew that much. Something about Rodney, about what had happened on that planet. He needed to get out there, help find Rodney. It was his fault. He'd lost one of his team. He needed to get out there.

"Colonel Sheppard?" A voice beside him, quite close. One of the medics.

John made to get off the bed, ignoring his dizziness. "I should be out there."

He felt someone press him back onto the bed. Then Carson's voice. "You're in no condition to be up."

John heard something about a weapon, then caught, "… likely impacting how you're feeling, your thought processes…" before the rest was swept away. Clenching his fists, John pushed them down into the mattress as he sat on the bed. He could be helping, but instead he was stuck here, apparently suffering the effects of some sort of weapon. He shook his head, hoping the motion might clear it. He felt odd. Maybe Carson was right. Maybe he was sick, or hurt. That flash of light – Carson had mentioned some sort of weapon. He tried to focus on that, but it spun away from him.

John only realized he was rocking when Carson put a hand on his shoulder, stilling him. Then it was as if a fog lifted, and he could suddenly see Carson looking at him with concern. "How are you feeling, Colonel?"

"Fine." His usual BS. From the look on the Doctor's face, John could tell that Carson obviously didn't believe him. "Why?"

"You appear agitated," Carson said. He glanced at the medic beside him, then looked back to John. "I'm going to run some tests."

John felt something press against his arm. The last thing he heard was Carson saying, "A bit of something to help you sleep," as the world rushed away from him.


	4. Chapter 4

_He found himself in that dark room again, protesting loudly as he was pushed ahead of a group of people. There were lights now, the people behind him using them to illuminate the dark room. Sheppard was somewhere behind him, crumpled on the floor. The weapon that woman had used – he wasn't sure what that weapon was capable of, but it seemed far too advanced for the current state of this place. Maybe something they'd found, or traded for. He hoped to hell that Sheppard was unconscious, rather than dead. He hadn't seen Teyla, and he hoped she'd grabbed Sheppard and gotten away. _

_The lights revealed a patch of the floor covered in debris from the roof, and leaves that must have tumbled in from openings in the ceiling. A dark hand reached down and, pushing away the leaves, grabbed a handle he hadn't realized was there, opening a door – a hatch. Yanking it open, the woman who'd used the weapon on John stepped fully into the light, then down - there was obviously some sort of ladder or similar, and the woman descended for several minutes – place must be deep. He heard her call up, and then someone shoved him forward. He swore, but seeing no other choice, he took that first step. _

John opened his eyes, unsure for a moment where he was. He'd been dreaming… of… he wasn't sure what. It felt like he'd been seeing through Rodney's eyes, but that was impossible. It had seemed so real.

John heard a rustling near him, and remembered in a rush where he was. Infirmary. He must have fallen asleep after Carson had – damn the man, Carson had shot him up with something and knocked him out. He focused, thinking hard, trying to remember the dream. There had been something, an opening in the floor, hidden under a cover, that hidden under leaves.

He waited until whoever was in the room moved off. Then slowly, not wanting to set off any "Sheppard is trying to get out of here without permission" alarms, John pushed himself to sitting. He pulled out his IV with a soft hiss. He needed to talk to Elizabeth, tell her what he'd seen. Without bothering to find slippers, John slid off the bed and moved carefully to the door, hissing at the cold floor against his bare feet. Luckily, it seemed to be night, because the corridor lights were dimmed and the hallway was empty.

Trailing one hand along the wall, John made his way back to his quarters. He stumbled to his dresser and drew out some sweatpants, changing from the scrubs Carson or one of the medics must have dressed him in. He left the scrubs crumpled where they fell and slumped into a chair, tired and dizzy. He needed to get up and go see Elizabeth, but he was wiped. He just needed a minute. Then he'd finish dressing, and go.

He noticed blood, now dried, on back of his hand, where IV had been. As he rubbed at it, the world tilted, and –

_He lowered himself through the hatch, feeling with his feet for the rungs of the ladder he knew must be there. Leaves, long dry, fell past him and down. Following them, his hand touched the metal of a ladder, and he felt wetness – not water. He must have cut his hand in the struggle. He purposefully reached up and moved his hand along the top edge of the hatch, hoping that he'd leave a trace of blood there, some evidence of where he'd gone. _

John realized he'd fallen asleep only because he woke up, unsure of how much time he'd missed. He needed to get going. His feet were freezing. He should at least get some socks on. Stiffly, he reached over to the open drawer and pulled out socks, tugging them on. Cold, he added the first thing he could reach out of the dresser without having to stand up, which ended up being the only hoodie he'd brought on this mission, the one he never wore, with "Stanford" written on the front. He pulled the sleeves down over his hands to warm them.

John pushed himself to standing, then steadied himself with a hand to the wall. Deciding to skip the shoes as too much hassle, he triggered his door. Still night, thank God. And not far. He walked down the corridor, one hand to the wall. After what seemed like forever, he finally reached Elizabeth's quarters, and he triggered the chime. He heard Elizabeth's voice respond. He slid his hand up the wall and let his head hang down, eyes closed. This was ridiculous. He'd been dreaming. It wasn't real. He should go back to his quarters. Maybe he would. He just needed a minute.

_Carefully, he reached down with his foot, feeling for the next step or rung…_

The door opened, and he raised his head.

Elizabeth ran a hand through her hair drowsily, then her eyes widened. "Woah, John." She reached out and grabbed his arm, concern clear on her face. Elizabeth's frank gaze made John suddenly aware of how he must look, what he was wearing, the fact that he had forgotten to comb his hair.

"Does Carson know where you are?" Elizabeth asked.

John shrugged. "Not so much, no."

Elizabeth guided John to the nearest chair. He put a hand on the chair's back to steady himself and peered up through his bangs at her, blinking slowly. He'd come here to tell her what he'd been seeing. Now, he wasn't so sure that was a good idea.

"You should probably sit down before you fall down," Elizabeth said. She turned away, radioing Carson. "I think I've found your errant patient, Doctor."

"Aye, yes," Carson said, not even asking who it was she was talking about. John lost track of the rest of their conversation, head spinning, trying to hold back a rising nausea as his vision grayed.

Then Elizabeth was in front of him. John stepped forward, shaky, but trying to hide it. "Rodney's out there."

"He is," Elizabeth replied. "We have search teams…"

"I can see him," John rephrased. "I saw where they brought him."

"When you were there?" Elizabeth asked, seeming a bit cautious.

"No." John knew that what he was about to say, plus how he looked, plus his showing up here like this, never mind the fact that he'd been injured and unconscious for however long made it unlikely she'd believe him, but he had to try. Just in case what he was seeing in his dreams was real, he had to try. He wavered on his feet, and closed his eyes. He just needed a minute.

John felt Elizabeth grab him, lowering him into the chair. In a low voice, eyes still closed, John tried to get out as much as he could, so that Elizabeth could understand. "I can see the leaves." John paused, because that wasn't the important part. "Hold on," he murmured, focusing on what he could see, trying to get clear. He took a breath. "There's blood on the floor, just there; I'd cut my hand when they pushed me down." Or Rodney had. It was confusing.

"You obviously aren't well," Elizabeth said from quite nearby, voice soft. She sounded like she was crouched in front of him. Probably making sure he didn't fall off the damn chair.

John held up a finger, as if to pause the world. Eyes still closed, he heard the door chime. Probably Carson's team.

"John…"

John opened his eyes, and met Elizabeth's concerned gaze.

"You need to go back to the infirmary. Let Carson look at you."

John just got out, "You need to go back," as the darkness rushed in.


	5. Chapter 5

"Do you think that whatever he was hit with, is causing all this?"

That was Elizabeth's voice. John could tell he was in the infirmary again, from the sounds and smells of the place. He couldn't be bothered to open his eyes and check to be sure. He was so damn tired.

"I do believe so." That was Carson. "Although I didn't expect him to go wandering off in the night."

John felt a hand touch his arm, then away. Then Elizabeth said something, and he heard Carson add something else. The voices moved away, and he lost track of what they were saying.

John wasn't sure what was going on, but something had knocked him off his moors. He felt adrift, like he was drowning. He wasn't sure if what he was feeling was him, or related to the weapon or whatever he'd been hit with. He remembered a flash of light. Maybe that was the weapon. Leaves. Blood, there on the floor.

Maybe Carson was right. He trusted Carson. Elizabeth as well. If they felt he was acting kind of wibbly wobbly, then maybe he was. He chuckled, knowing Rodney would have enjoyed the "wibbly wobbly" reference from Doctor Who.

Rodney.

Maybe what he was seeing really was just dreams.

Or maybe not.

x-x

John woke to see Teyla sitting in the chair beside his bed. She seemed to be in the middle of a conversation, and he suddenly realized that the conversation she was having was with him. "I wish I could have…" She stopped, and looked down. She dragged in a deep breath.

"Not your fault," John said, knowing what the conversation was about, even if he'd missed the beginning of it. Rodney. He understood the sense of guilt. He felt like he himself should have done way more, should be doing more now. Closing his eyes, he asked, "How long has he been gone?"

_It was dark as hell, other than the light making its dim way down from the hatchway overhead. He felt for his flashlight, but there was nothing. Hearing the woman's shuffling steps going away from him, he moved further into the space, feeling with his feet as he made each step. This felt like a stupid horror movie. Next thing would be something grabbing him by the ankle. _

John hesitated. He knew he couldn't actually be here. That he had to be back on Atlantis. That he was dreaming again, somehow dreaming that he was in Rodney's head, experiencing what Rodney had experienced just after he'd been captured. But it all felt so real. Even if it was a dream, obviously his subconscious was trying to tell him something. Calming himself deliberately, he focused, forcing himself to stay in the moment.

_The only sounds he could hear were his own breathing, the sounds of his feet as he moved in the darkness. He stood there, listening. He thought he heard… Yes, that was that woman down here moving off, people above him coming down that ladder. He realized that, now that his eyes had better adjusted to the low level of light, perhaps it wasn't quite as dark ahead of him. Slowly, with a hand on the wall beside him as guide, he started walking again. The wall was slimy under his fingers. He could smell the damp. He was probably going to catch something gross down here, end up sick. That was all he needed._

_He realized he was starting to see things around him – the wall, the floor. Light. He squinted. Moving cautiously, he went around a corner. _

John felt someone shake his arm, and he opened his eyes to see Teyla standing there. "Are you okay?"

Good question. He was dreaming and, maybe, not dreaming. What he was seeing might be what Rodney had seen. If it was, then he knew where Rodney had gone.

When John didn't respond, Teyla's brow wrinkled in worry. "Maybe I should get Carson…"

"I'm seeing… stuff," John finally said. He felt that, if anyone might understand what he meant, it would be Teyla, who also sometimes 'saw stuff'. He let his eyes fall shut.

_He felt someone come up behind him, then he was shoved around that corner. The room was bright enough that he could see - _

"Dreaming and not dreaming," he said, lifting a hand and trailing it above him.

"What are you seeing?" Teyla asked, her voice soft.

"Rodney and not Rodney," John said, opening his eyes and turning his head so he could see Teyla again. "Is Ronon still sick?"

"No," Teyla said with a tight smile. "He's quite well now."

John pushed himself up on an elbow. "You guys need to come with me."

Teyla placed a hand on his arm. "You aren't ready –"

John cut across her. "We need to go get him. I can see him." As Teyla's eyes widened, he added, "You don't believe me."

"You don't normally have visions," Teyla said. Her eyes searched the infirmary, obviously looking for help.

John tried to push himself to a seat. "You do, though," he said in response. He knew she'd had visions, or something like them, in the past, or maybe now. "So you know." The blanket tumbled to the ground, and he nearly followed it, but for a hand – Teyla – suddenly grabbing him by the shoulder.

"Please, Teyla," he said. "Just. Tell Elizabeth. Dr. Weir," he said, not sure if he was making sense. He probably looked crazy, completely off his rocker, but he needed to keep going, to get someone to believe him, and Teyla, with her own history, was his one best shot. "You have to go back and check," because he knew – he knew Rodney was still down there. "I can see where he is." He shook his head. "Or where he was." He was getting frantic, which wasn't helping his case. He felt hands pressing him back, saw some sort of syringe in his peripheral vision, and realized he didn't have much time. He met Teyla's eye, and he tried hard to focus, to get this out as clearly as he could. "At the back of the room, under the leaves, there's a trap door. It's dark, but there's blood, so you'll know, he did it so you could see. Under there, there's a room…" and that's all he got out before the world swept away from him.


	6. Chapter 6

x-x

"So how's he doing?"

John heard someone slide into the chair beside his bed. The voice sounded like Rodney, but that was impossible. John kept his eyes closed and his breathing even, waiting for whatever might come next. He heard a soft conversation between Rodney-not-Rodney and Carson. John was too focused on the sound of Rodney's voice to really pay attention to what was being said. This sounded like Rodney, but it couldn't be Rodney. Rodney was lost on that planet.

When the talking stopped, he heard someone walk away, and someone stay. "Is that you?" John asked of the darkness, not sure if he was dreaming again.

John felt a hand on his arm. Then that voice, "Heard you haven't been feeling all that hot."

"I've been…" John waved a hand vaguely, then opened his eyes. It did look like it was Rodney sitting in the chair beside him. He wasn't wearing a uniform, though; and he looked a bit the worse for wear. Bruise on one cheek, bandage on one hand, and tired – the man looked exhausted. "I'm not sure…", John added, squinting at his friend, as if that would help him figure out if Rodney was real or part of one of those dreams. If this really was Rodney, then, "You look like crap."

"That's pretty much how I feel, too," Rodney said around a wince. "To be honest, could be a lot worse, though." He let his hand drop, and leaned back in his chair. "Carson said I'll be back at work in a day or so."

John pushed himself up to sitting, and turned to Rodney, letting his legs dangle off the bed. "Not sure when I'll be back. Carson seems to think I'm kind of…" he stared down at his legs, watching them swing.

"Yeah, he said you weren't feeling well, that the weapon that woman used on you…"

John looked up at Rodney.

"…scrambled your brain," Rodney added with a wince, one hand flying to his forehead.

Scrambled, yeah. Well said. John struggled to pull a blanket up over his shoulders.

"It's always cold in here," Rodney said, standing and helping with the blanket. "Something about keeping any potential contagions down, although I've argued that here in Atlantis it's not as necessary as it is on Earth. But you know Carson and, you know, science," Rodney said, emphasizing that last word. "Not always best friends, doctors and science." Once they got the blanket settled, Rodney asked, "Mind?" indicating the bed with a nod. When John shrugged, Rodney slid onto the bed beside John. "Elizabeth told me that you told them where to find me. She said they'd searched the building, but missed that hatch. Might not have found it at all if you hadn't clued them in."

John didn't respond. He wasn't sure what he could say. He'd helped find Rodney by seeing where he was in a dream? That really wasn't something he wanted to talk about.

But Rodney, in a typical Rodney move, took any option to not talk about it away by talking about it. "She said you'd seen where I was in one of your dreams," he said, peering at John out of the corner of his eye.

John exhaled, giving in to the inevitable. "Bunch of dreams, actually."

"Okay…", Rodney said. He turned to fully face John and asked, "Seem kind of weird to you?"

"Scrambled, remember?" John said, trying to smile and failing. "So yeah, weird." He hesitated.

Rodney huffed a soft laugh. "About as weird as all the other weird stuff we've experienced here."

John nodded. "Maybe it was that device? I was – there was a weapon." At Rodney's answering nod, John continued, "I feel like it's made my head… I don't know."

"Scrambled," Rodney repeated, not unkindly. "Carson says it'll get better. You need to give it more time."

John exhaled loudly.

"So, what was it you were seeing?" Rodney said, voice low.

John hesitated, unsure of how to answer. Rodney would think he was nuts. Actually, he already thought he was nuts. Deciding it didn't matter, he turned to face Rodney. Pulling his legs up and crossing them on the bed, he leaned across them, closing the distance. He reached out with a hand, wiped his palm across the bed. "I could see blood on the floor." He closed his eyes, remembering the dream. "I watched you wipe it," Eyes open, looking directly at Rodney, he said, "Your hand."

Rodney raised his brows in surprise. "I thought that weapon knocked you out."

"It did. I didn't see this," John said, indicating his eyes. "I saw it," he pointed at his head. He waved toward Rodney. "Or you saw it." John went on, words coming out in a tumble. "There was, like, a trap door. A hatch. You could barely see it. If you didn't know it was there, I'm not sure you would have. They moved me –" He shook his head, then reached out his hand and touched Rodney's knee briefly. "Actually, you – down that ladder. It was dark. I could see…" He closed his eyes again, so he could focus. "Back there, where you are. Or were." He opened his eyes, knowing that he was probably coming across as a bit unhinged. Rodney thought he was messed up before he'd said all this, and John could only imagine what he was thinking now.

Rodney looked worried. "Yeah," he said hesitantly. He shifted on the bed, eyes roving the room. Probably hoping to find Carson. When he didn't see the doctor, he went on, "Teyla told me…"

"Ah," John said as he realized Teyla had somehow convinced Elizabeth to go back and look in that place, to try to find that hatch. That even though he'd been, as Rodney would say, completely off his rocker, Teyla had believed him. So had Elizabeth. At least enough to go back and check. So if Rodney didn't believe him, maybe that was okay. He looked at Rodney again. "Here you are." He looked closely at Rodney, making sure. "This is you."

"This is me," Rodney echoed, brow wrinkled in concern.

"It's been hard to tell," John explained. "I've been – that weapon, you remember?"

"I remember," Rodney said firmly, and John realized he'd already asked Rodney that question.

"Sorry," John said. "I keep losing track."

"I know," Rodney said. "But you're going to be okay. We think – Carson and I – we think that weapon did a number on you. But according to our good doctor, it's wearing off now."

At this, John raised his own eyebrow in disbelief. Didn't feel like the thing was wearing off.

Rodney gave a quick smile. "No, really. Carson says you're better than you were last night. At least somewhat."

John thought about that. Maybe Rodney was right. He was still… whatever. But maybe he was feeling a bit less whatever than he had been. Maybe.

Rodney cut into his thoughts. "Still having those dreams?"

"No," John said. He didn't think so. If this was really Rodney, and he thought it was, and if he really was here in the infirmary, then he wasn't dreaming. Although if forced, he knew he'd have to admit that he wasn't sure. And even if he wasn't dreaming now, he was feeling nervous that they'd start again. He hoped they wouldn't. Changing the subject, he asked, "How long were you there?"

"Found me at the end of the fourth day," Rodney said. John watched as Rodney grasped the edge of the bed, knuckles going white. "Ronon and Teyla, with the force of God behind them. I've been back here about twelve hours, now." He glanced at John. "You've been sleeping."

"Are you okay?" John asked. He could tell by the tension thrumming through Rodney's posture that he hadn't come away from this unscathed. He added a rushed, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Rodney asked, looking surprised.

"I wish I'd been able to find you earlier," John said quickly. "Or, not that I hadn't found you, but I was having a hard time understanding what I was seeing, getting people to understand what I was seeing, and even now I'm not sure I'm –"

Rodney grabbed his hand, stilling it, and only then did John realize he'd been twisting the blanket.

"I'll be fine," Rodney said, looking at John, clearly evaluating. He let go of John's hand. "How are you doing?"

John shrugged. "You can probably tell better than I can. How do you think I'm doing? Am I acting like myself?"

Rodney pursed his lips. "Yeah, well… not so much, no."

"Does Carson think I'm still being affected by that thing?"

"He said it's wearing off," Rodney said, and John realized they'd already talked about this. "More like after-effects at this point," Rodney said, leaning back a little. "Your… something something something levels are still high, but they're returning to normal," he added, vaguely waving circles with his hand. "He thinks all this should wear off with time."

John nodded. He'd seen some pretty odd things here in the Pegasus Galaxy, but this was one of the odder experiences he'd had. He didn't much like it. He was used to being in control, at least of himself, and right now, he felt far from it.

Rodney slid off the bed and turned to face John. "Listen," Rodney said, leaning forward. "If Carson says you're going to be okay, you're going to be okay. I know I tease the man," he said, lip quirking up. "But he really does know what he's doing."

John considered what Rodney had said. Maybe Carson was right. Time might help. And maybe some distance from what happened. John tried to stifle a yawn. Time, distance, and maybe some more sleep. He was wiped.

Rodney knocked him on the knee lightly. "You should get some sleep."

John looked fully at Rodney, again seeing the bruises, the tiredness. "You, too." Then he yawned again. "Sorry," he said, rubbing his eyes. "I've been having these dreams." He looked up, staring at Rodney. After a moment, he asked, "Is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me," Rodney said with a slight smile. "You should get some sleep. I'll stop in again tomorrow, see how you're doing."

John nodded and lay back down, eyes closed before Rodney had even left the room. He pulled the blanket over his shoulders and turned onto his side, facing away from the door. Despite what he'd told Rodney, he wasn't so eager to sleep. He thought he hadn't had one of those dreams in hours, but that didn't mean he wouldn't if he fell asleep now, and he really didn't want to chance it. What he wanted was for them to find Rodney, and bring him back here. But wait – if that was Rodney who'd been here, they'd already done that. He felt like he was going in circles. What he wanted was for everything to go back to normal. But he was so tired.

Maybe Rodney was right. Get some more sleep and wake up to Rodney-who-is-Rodney, and himself back to his old self, those weird dreams gone, and Atlantis open before him.

Giving himself over to sleep, John dreamed, this time, of Ferris Wheels and football, and things that move very, very fast.

x-x

End


End file.
